


Husband Material

by DeathByStorm



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Because they switched back in this AU, Belated Valentines, Black Paladin Shiro (Voltron), Blue Paladin Lance (Voltron), Dates, Established Relationship, M/M, On the part of both Shiro and Me, Post Season 7, Shance Cafe Valentine's Exchange
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-02-18
Updated: 2019-02-18
Packaged: 2019-10-30 19:13:30
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,904
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17834501
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DeathByStorm/pseuds/DeathByStorm
Summary: “It’s a long way from home.”“Yeah, I suppose,” Lance said. He couldn’t prevent the tremor from entering his voice. “Just – I feel like I need a break.”“We've been fighting for quiet a while,” Shiro said. "Frankly I could use one too."“Too bad this gig didn’t come with vacation days, hmm?” Lance said.Or in which Lance is homesick and Shiro takes him on a date because they both need a break





	Husband Material

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Linski](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Linski/gifts).



> As always, thank you to the lovely [Eilera](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Eilera/pseuds/Eilera) for betaing.
> 
> Surprise, Linski00! I was your secret Valentine for the Shance exchange. 
> 
> I used your romantic dinner prompt, but expanded on it a little. I hope you enjoy :)

“Hey,” Shiro said. “What're you thinking about?”

Lance leaned against him with a sigh and Shiro wrapped his arm around him automatically. They were sitting at the edge of the cliff with their legs dangling over the edge into empty space. Sprawled across the sky, were twinkling stars that had winked into existence one by one after the sun had set. The lack of familiar constellations was a constant reminder to Lance that they weren’t home.

They’d wandered away from the rest of their friends for some much-needed alone time. They’d been stuck together aboard the Atlas for the past few weeks which was long enough that it had begun to feel cramped even with the vastness of the ship. Allura had set them down on this planet so the crew and the paladins could get some down time.

Don’t get him wrong, Lance loved his friends, but Hunk stress cooked, Keith got very cagey and there wasn’t enough deodorant in the entire universe to protect them from Pidge’s sweat.

He pulled his knees up to his chest and tucked his arms around them. “You ever think about what’s going on back home?”

“All the time.”

“It’s just – so much has happened these past few years,” Lance said. “I’m not the same person anymore. I can’t help but miss the person I was before all this.”

At that, he gestured around their immediate surroundings. In the distance, the bonfire that Lance had helped build a few hours earlier looked like a star in the dark night. The fluffy trees overhead had foliage that had more in common with cotton candy of all things instead of leaves.

“It’s a long way from home.”

“Yeah, I suppose,” Lance said. He couldn’t prevent the tremor from entering his voice. “Just – I feel like I need a break.”

“We have been fighting for quiet a while,” Shiro said.

 “Too bad this gig didn’t come with vacation days, hmm?” Lance said. “It’s getting cold. I’m going to head back. Are you coming?”

“I think I’m going to stay out a bit longer.”

Lance kissed him on the cheek before getting to his feet. “Don’t stay out too long, Shiro.”

Shiro let out a soft laugh. “I’ll be back in time for dinner. Don’t worry.”

Lance began to walk down the path towards the forest. He looked back and was treated to the ethereal image of Shiro sitting there at the edge of the cliff, like a ghost in the dark. A swell of affection rose in his chest and he smiled to himself before turning back towards the path.

*

“Hey Lance,” Shiro’s voice rumbled in his ear the next morning.

“Mmmph,” Lance mumbled and pulled the pillow over his head. “It’s too early, Shiro. Come cuddle.”

“No.”

Lance looked out from underneath the blanket. “Yes.”

“I have breakfast,” Shiro said.

Lance sat up blearily and rubbed his eyes.

Shiro was standing in front of him with a soft smile holding a tray in one hand. On the tray were two plates of fried eggs on the flatbread they had picked up a couple of planets back as well as a bundle of blue flowers that reminded Lance of cornflowers. Again the homesickness welled up in his chest. 

“Shiro you didn’t have to,” Lance said as Shiro handed him the bouquet. He inhaled, the sweet scent tickling his nose. “Thank you.”

“I wanted to,” Shiro said.

Lance moved over so that Shiro could sit in bed with him. Lance leaned against his side and they ate in a comfortable silence that had been all too rare as of late just enjoying each other’s company.

“I looked up the current month to see how close Valentine’s day was,” Shiro said as they ate. “We missed it by two months, but I see no reason why we can’t celebrate now.”

“But I don’t have anything for you!” Lance said, laughing.

Shiro snorted. “This day is for you and to cheer you up. I’ve wiped our schedule and I’ll need you to wear this.”

“Get dressed,” Shiro said when they were done eating. “In your street clothes, not your paladin armour.”

“Aye aye, captain,” Lance nudged Shiro out of the way and slipped out of bed. He turned to Shiro and spread his arms. “So, do I pass muster?”

Shiro stood up and kissed Lance on the cheek. “You always do.”

“Charmer.”

Shiro smiled. “Here.”

He held out a blindfold to Lance, who took it.

“Okay Shiro, I’m at your mercy,” Lance said, waggling his eyebrows for good measure. “Do your worst.”

“I’ll make the most of it,” Shiro said, his hot breath wetting the fabric, making Lance shiver. “Later.”

“I’ll hold you to that.”

There was a pause for a moment before Lance felt a warm hand encircle his own. Shiro led Lance out of the Atlas and Lance felt the heat of the alien sun hit his face. It was amazing how much the lack of vision enhanced his senses. He could feel Shiro’s rough, dry palm around his own. The sweet smell of alien flowers sang through the breeze.

“Go get ‘im, Lance!” Hunk said before quickly being hushed by Allura and Pidge.

“I must say, you’re quite the blabbermouth aren’t you?” Romelle said.

“Get what?” Lance asked.

“You’ll see,” Shiro said quietly.

The ground changed under his feet as they continued their walk from soft grass to a firm path. Around him, he could hear the sounds of people nearby and he shuffled closer to Shiro for safety.

“Don’t worry, I won’t let you run into anyone,” Shiro said.

Presently, the sound of cheering reached his ears. The light around him changed as well as they entered some sort of building and the sounds died down. He reached up to grab the blindfold only to be stopped by Shiro’s soft “Not yet.”

They stopped after a few minutes more after going through another set of doors. The cheering was even louder now, and the slight breeze seemed to indicate that they were outside.

“You can remove it now,” Shiro murmured.

Lance ripped the blindfold off just as the announcer said.

“And we have a very special treat for you today, folks. Presenting blue paladin Lance, and black paladin Shiro of Voltron.”

It wasn't a full arena. Screaming spectators were sitting up in the bleachers. Lance glanced around and saw half a dozen aliens of different species lined up beside them.

“Is this –”

“They will be joining us for our sharpshooting contest today.”

“I know how much you like testing your skills,” Shiro said. “Here’s your chance.”

“Well, I am the cool ninja sharpshooter,” Lance murmured.

But he was smiling so hard his cheeks were beginning to hurt. He looked up at his beautiful, dorky, impossibly sweet boyfriend who merely smiled at him.

Shiro gave him a quick kiss. “Knock ‘em dead, sweetheart.”

“Oh, I’ll do more than that,” Lance said.

“Alright, for those of you who are here for the first time today this contest is simple! Moving targets. You miss one, you’ll be eliminated. The prize goes to the person who manages to hit the most targets before missing. This is not a contest of speed.”

As the announcer said this, another alien was pushing a floating cart down the line. He stopped in front of each contestant, allowing them time to carefully pick a rifle. Shiro paused and considered, before picking up a rifle.

Lance was last in line. He scanned the cart. All of the plasma rifles looked the same, which he expected. To show who was truly superior, they would have to use the same weapon. Still, he took his time choosing, finally going with one that was a friendly blue that reminded him of his bayard. He quickly sighted down it, familiarizing himself with the weight and the feel of the gun. The grip was soft and conformed to him as he wrapped his fingers around it.

“You will get three shots at the stationary targets behind you to adjust to the plasma guns,” the announcer said. “Begin.”

Lance turned around and raised his gun at the target. The targets were about 60 metres away, and he pulled the trigger a split second after the whistle sounded.

The shot cracked out and struck the butte of the target just off center. The other shots cracked out a second later and he saw Shiro’s bolt hit his own target as well. He adjusted slightly and pulled the trigger again. This time the shot hit dead center.

He smiled and some of the tension that he was carrying in his body unwound. This was easy, uncomplicated, and something he was good at. He glanced down the row of other competitors and ignored the nervous turn in his stomach.

“Alright, target practice is over, folks. We’re getting down to the nitty gritty of this. Release the drones!”

Lance paused for a second. Drones? That was what they were supposed to hit?

There was a buzzing sound as a swarm of drones rose out of the grassy field. They hummed like a hive of angry bees, and as Lance watched, they took off, flying every which way.

“Go!”

The sound of the crowd faded from Lance’s ears. His world narrowed down to the moving targets and –, there! A pink one caught his eye and he followed its trail up into the sky through the scope. He aimed,  quickly pulled the trigger, and the drone fell down into the grass, smoking.

His attention was immediately drawn to another one and he followed its trail across the field. He squeezed the trigger and it was also a direct hit.

The meandering trail of a red one caught his eye and –

“Oh, looks like he’s out folks!”

One of the contestants beside him growled and tossed his gun down before stomping away. Lance rolled his eyes. Spoilsport. He refocused on the erratically behaving drones.

Shiro was the next one out. With a self-deprecating smile, he handed his rifle off to one of the attendants.

“Knock ‘em dead, Lance!”

Lance gave him a thumbs up without turning around. He licked his lips, and so it continued.

He kept up his careful pick a target, aim, and fire.

Eventually it was just down to him and an alien with far too many tentacles. It glared at him, or at least Lance thought it did. Reading the body language of other species could be rather difficult. He gave the alien his best challenging smirk.

They both turned back to the targets and then –

“Folks, since we’re down to our last two contestants, we’re going to make this a little more challenging for them,” the host’s voice floated over the crowd.

At that, the drones sped up and began moving erratically with no planned path. The crowd let out a roar of approval.

More challenging? Lance glanced up at the scoreboard and then at Shiro, who mouthed ‘you got this.’ He and Shorplat were both at 40 dead drones apiece. His lips curled up into a smirk and his finger tightened on the trigger. Yeah, he could go for that.

After all, Shiro had faith in him. He wouldn’t miss.

*

“Come on Shiro, you should do something too,” Lance said swinging their linked hands. On his chest was the ribbon he'd earned for outshooting Skorplat. As Shiro had known he would.

Shiro laughed. “Lance we already did the sharp shooting competition.”

Shiro felt lighter just seeing the happy look on Lance’s face. It had definitely been worth it to set this up for him. Truth be told, he’d needed the break too. He couldn’t remember the last time that they had done something like this together. The war … just got in the way sometimes.

“Yeah, but that was for me,” Lance said. “How about – there.”

Shiro turned and followed Lance’s finger with his gaze. There was a field set up where muscle bound aliens of various species were doing some stretches, obviously warming up for something. Along the edge of the field was a large wall.

“Lance –”

“Nope, we’re entering this,” Lance said. “You’re winning something cool too.”

“You don’t even know what it is,” Shiro said, exasperated.

“Yes, I do.” Lance narrowed his eyes at the sign that was set up before the field. “Nope, can’t read that.”

Shiro snorted.

He turned to the closest person. “Excuse me what’s that contest over there for?”

“It is for the headstand push-ups competition.”

“The-what?”

“Headstand push-up competition.”

Lance turned to Shiro, practically bouncing on the balls of his feet. “Hear that? We’re gonna enter you in the headstand push-up competition!”

He hesitated, and Lance turned his pleading gaze on him and, as always, Shiro crumpled like wet paper.

“Excuse me,” Shiro said, walking up to the attendant. “Is there still time to sign up?”

“Sign ups are closed,” the alien manning the entrance said.

A pang of disappointment welled in Shiro’s gut as Lance’s bouncing stopped. The mischievous gleam that he saw in his boyfriend’s eye quickly put paid to that feeling though.

“Really?” Lance said. “Even for the paladins of Voltron?”

“Paladins?” the man said. “I heard they were at the sharpshooting contest earlier, but they’d have left by now.”

Lance pulled out his bayard and transformed it into a gun and back before the alien’s amazed eyes. There was an immediate clamour for autographs from some excited spectators.

“People, people,” Lance said. “There’ll be time for autographs after the competition.”

“Of course, the paladins of Voltron are welcome to take part in our humble strength competition,” the alien said. He bowed and moved the rope to let them through.

“Thanks!” Lance said giving them a jaunty wave.

“You know I don’t approve of using our positions like that,” Shiro said softly.

“Relax,” Lance said. “It’s just a contest. It’s not like we’re doing something illegal.”

“Alright, let’s go kick some alien butt,” Shiro said.

*

“Contestants to your stations!”

Lance didn’t last. Though, he didn’t expect to and that was okay. They had entered this competition for Shiro so he could kick some butt. He brushed off the slight tinge of disappointment, in favour of cheering his boyfriend on.

“Go Shiro!”

Shiro’s biceps bulged out as he slowly bent his trembling arms. He was covered in sweat in the midday sun, his shirt plastered to his body and – Lance squirmed slightly. The view was very, very nice.

Okay, so maybe he had an ulterior motive for this after all. Sue him.

Shiro’s competitor wasn’t doing much better. They were the last two standing, and as Lance watched, the alien finally collapsed. Shiro did one more push up to make sure that he had indeed done the most, before executing a graceful flip that landed him back on his feet. He wiped the sweat from his brow, and Lance cheered along with the rest of the crowd, as Shiro bowed with a flourish.

He leaned over to the alien nearest to him and hissed, “That’s my boyfriend.”

The alien shifted a few inches away from him, but Lance didn’t let that get him down and turned his focus back on the field.

Shiro accepted the ribbon with grace, and after signing a few autographs, they headed off down the midway.

*

“I have one more thing planned,” Shiro said later on the way back to the lions. He pulled the blindfold back out of his pocket.

“There’s more?” Lance said.

“Well, the day isn’t over yet,” Shiro said softly.

Lance held still as Shiro gently tied the blindfold around his head. A large warm hand took his own and this time he was only led a short distance before Shiro stopped and removed the blindfold. There in the clearing before him was a single cloth covered table with two tall candles lit in the center and two plates of food piled with what Lance was sure was Hunk’s finest cooking.

“Shiro, you know I’m going to have to get you back for this,” Lance said. “No one outshines Loverboy Lance at his own game.”

“I look forward to your efforts,” Shiro replied.

Lance leaned up and pulled Shiro down for a soft kiss and revelled in the solid feeling of Shiro’s arms around him. Lance drew away and entwined their fingers with a smile, allowing Shiro to lead him over to the table. Shiro pulled out the chair for him and once Lance had sat down, he pushed it back in.

“It smells great,” Lance said, looking at what was obviously steak and potatoes, though the potatoes were green, and the steak was purple.

“Wine?” Shiro said.

“You do know a way to a man’s heart,” Lance said as Shiro poured them both a glass.

“Well, you found your way to mine,” Shiro said. “Only fair I do the same.”

Lance felt a hectic blush rise in his cheeks as he did his best not to swoon at the table.  

Shiro smiled at him and they both dug in. As Lance began to cut up his steak, a thought occurred to him, causing him to jerk the knife across the plate with an unholy screech. They both flinched at the sound.

“Lance?”

Lance resumed cutting his meat. The war with the Galra made nothing certain, but there was one thing that he was sure of.

“It’s nothing, Shiro,” Lance said.

He was going to marry this man.

 

**Author's Note:**

> Feel free to come scream about Voltron with me on [Tumblr](https://www.deathbystorm.tumblr.com)


End file.
